FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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The Imperial City never failed to impress. She suspected its builders - those mysterious Ayleids - planned it that way. No one could look up to the sky at the white-gold tower and not feel a little awe at the sight. She had seen it countless times, usually around this time of day when the setting sun's red and purple rays glinted off it's smooth surface. It even seemed that the light hitting the top of the tower was brighter than that on the lower side - as if it was straining to see the sun over the horizon.

The Ayleids. Songs were still sung of them occasionally, usually by the High Elves - their distant cousins. As she approached the massive wall gate, she wondered what they would think of their highest achievement now being home to a bunch of upstart Imperial humans. Would they choose to destroy the whole place before allowing that desecration? She suspected so.

And yet here she was, story-weaver to the same humans. The common language she wrote in wasn't her first language. To become so fluent in another tongue as to be able to write stories without her alien-ness bleeding through the pages required immersion so deep that she didn't even think of herself as Argonian any longer. She was proud of her heritage, but she thought like a human now. It was necessary to be able to tell her stories properly, and that was her essence. She'd always had a certain attraction to humans, and wanted nothing more than to tell them stories, though quite why, she couldn't say.

Yet she'd never really expected to be as well-integrated into their society as she had become. Her body was too strange. Even the Khajiit were at least mammalian. She was something else entirely. Racists would call her a lizard, but she knew her biology bore very little in common with them or any reptiles. It was as if the Hist had used reptiles for a model, but the base materials were from something even farther removed. Something aquatic.

There was conjecture among some humans that in eons past, long before the rise of elves or humans, other creatures roamed Tamriel. They'd found bone-shaped stones that appeared to be reptilian. Among the Argonians, they conjectured that the Hist had created Argonians to resemble those prehistoric reptiles. But the Hist had been mistaken when it assumed the dominant race would be reptilian. Now the dominant races were increasingly human or human-like. Scales were no longer the order of the day. Tails, excepting the Khajiits and not even all of them, were long out of vogue.

And so the Hist were slowly reshaping the Argonians. Bit by bit, in fits and starts, over generations they were becoming more and more human-like. The rise of mammalian-like glands among the females was one obvious trait, but there were others. Ancient Argonian drawings had been discovered, but none bore breasts like she had. For that matter, none bore external genitalia which was now the norm for Argonian males. The Hist was making up for a mistake long ago - making up for lost time. Why? No one knew, even among their own kind.

She shook her head and cleared it of it's meanderings. Such things simply didn't concern her. She was what she was. She liked what she liked, and if the Hist had caused her to exist in this way at this time, she had no choice anyway - so why bother? It was an attitude not popular with her family, so she had abandoned them long ago. She had never once regretted that decision.

She found herself at the door of the Tiber Septim Hotel, her normal stop on her trip to Chorrol - at least when she wasn't worried about money. Funny thing, that. She hadn't really been worried about money in years. And yet, she was always worried about money in a more distant dread sort of way. Someday the words would dry up, and then so would the royalties.

Augusta Calidia looked up from behind the bar and saw her, beckoning her over.

"You got my letter then?" she asked.

"Certainly Quill-Weave. Your normal room is waiting for you. Here's the key. Shall I bring up dinner?"

"Oh yes! Please! But not till after I've taken a bath," she said, suddenly salivating. She only just now realized how hungry she had gotten.

"I'll have it sent up afterwards. Just tell the attendant to let me know when you're done. Make yourself comfortable. You're welcome to come back down after you're settled!"

Augusta was a good woman, if a bit too obvious. On a binge night Qull-Weave could outspend the cost of the room, bath and meals three-to-one. And she felt good today. It wasn't such a long walk on to Chorrol from here. She could wake up a little late.

She climbed the stairs, stepped into her room, and pulled her pack from her shoulders. She sighed at the release. Fit she may be, but even a light pack can get to chafe after a full day's walk. She didn't sweat, but a full day's dust can get under one's scales. The solution was the same if she was a human - water. Preferably warm.

She took her walking shoes off and padded down the back stairs to the outdoor bath. Modest she normally was, but communal baths were the one place that modesty was dismissed. Still, she was glad to see no one was around except the lone bath attendant - an Imperial man.

"Welcome, guest! You are Quill-Weave, right? Augusta told me you'd be down."

"I am."

"Pardon, but if you would prefer a female attendant I can get..."

"If it's okay, I'd prefer you."

"Very well. I'm experienced in Argonian bathing techniques, though I must admit I've not bathed a female argonian before."

"Oh, not much difference I'm sure. We've got less to worry about I expect."

"This is true! Any areas of concern? Wounds, bruises or other areas you'd rather I not wash?"

"None. You can scrub every inch. Just... if you get horny, don't let me know. Got it?"

"Check! I'll strap myself down tight," he said as she climbed into the bath.

She laughed a short, barking laugh. "You're funny. What's your name?"

"Call me Cliff," he answered as he climbed into the large bath with her.

She sat on the center pedestal, only waist-deep in the deliciously warm water as he poured water over her head and down her chest and back. She held out her arms for him to douse them as well.

"So, any news in the Imperial City I should know about?"

She felt the cool lotion flow down the back of her head and over her head-fins as he began to rub it into her scales by hand. Some establishments used a soft scrub brush for this, but she preferred this method. It combined a bath and a massage, and she adored both. A professional attendant would know that her scales were far softer than most other species assumed, and more resilient. He risked no harm to himself or her by being firm.

Frankly, in some ways she would have preferred a female attendant, but that usually led to embarrassment. This kept things professional, as long as she didn't inadvertently turn him on. But that had never happened at the Tiber Septim. Or, at least, none had been so unprofessional as to make it obvious. She'd eyed evidence to the contrary, but they kept that evidence under wraps. While she might not be physically attracted to men, it was nice to know they were still sometimes attracted to her.

His fingers massaged the lotion up underneath the scales of her back, slowly working his way down. It felt glorious.

"Oh, politics. I doubt you'd care much about that."

"Anything major?"

"Just a row about a Counsellor's nephew. Nepotism accusations. Really pretty much business as usual. Arms up!"

She raised her arms and felt the lotion flow under them. It tickled, but his warm fingers quickly followed up and she relaxed again. He was, she had to admit, good at his job.

"Sounds like it. Oh, that's nice. You been doing this long?"

"Not here at the Tiber. I worked the public baths for quite a long time though. Was hired away by Augusta."

"Well it shows," Quill complimented him.

He moved to her front and began the process again. She was pleased to note he spent no more and no less time on her breasts than the rest of her. A true professional.

"Stand on the pedestal, please."

She did as requested. "See? Less hassle!"

He laughed, and poured the lotion over her abdomen and down her legs, rubbing it in under her scales. He missed nothing, though he did pause to make sure she was okay with it before proceeding to her more private parts.

"Turn around please. So, I hear you're an author?"

She did his bidding, lifting her tail when requested.

"I am. Do you read?"

"Certainly! But I'm not much for fiction."

"I write nonfiction sometimes. Historical stuff mostly."

"Oh really? Well, now that does sound interesting! Bend over."

"Yow! That's cold!"

"Don't worry, I'll warm you up."

"Ahhh. Thanks. Yeah, for example I wrote a book on the history of Anvil and its port. Fascinating stuff if I do say so myself. Know why it was named Anvil?"

"Heh. No. Enlighten me!"

"It was originally known as Balon's Anvil. He was a famous blacksmith. People came from miles around for his work. The port was added later, to get his goods shipped out quicker."

"Really? A blacksmith? Tail down."

She felt the lotion flow across her tail spine and the hands begin their work.

"A true story! You can still find maps that label it as Balon's Anvil. Old maps. Hundreds of years old."

"You like research then?"

Quill's eyes lit up and she turned back to watch the attendant work on her tail.

"It's great. There are so many libraries scattered around Cyrodiil. So many books are unexplored. When I do my nonfiction, I feel like I'm just gathering up fascinating facts about the subject and letting people know what they should already know. History is..."

"Your passion. I see that! Okay, you can sit back on the pedestal. I'll rinse you off."

"Does it show so much? Yes, I guess it is. At least one of them."

He dumped another bucketful of water over her head and began rinsing her off.

"Great bath. Thanks Cliff."

"No thanks needed. It's my chosen profession."

"Well, you are good at your profession," Quill said, climbing out of the bath while Cliff began clearing the tools of his trade out. "If you see Augusta, tell her I'd love to get dinner now!"

"I'll do so."

Quill dried herself off and went back to her room. She felt truly refreshed. She also felt ravenous, and when the knock came at her door she took it greedily and set to the task with relish.

FInally she sat on the bed and began picking her teeth lazily, sipping on wine that had been provided along with her dinner.

"Ah, this is the life," she thought as she finished her post-dinner cleanup. Then she lay back, patted her now-full belly, and let natural lethargy take over.